


astra inclinant (the pebble remix)

by cosmicbees



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Falling In Love, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gay Disaster Shiro (Voltron), Getting Together, I took a college au and remixed it into a regency au bc i could, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26824627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicbees/pseuds/cosmicbees
Summary: Mr. Takashi Shirogane is a perpetual bachelor; a handsome man of twenty-six years, he is well known throughout the entirety of Garrison county as someone who is dedicated wholly to his study of the stars. In lieu of attending balls or performances at the theatre, Mr. Shirogane is often to be found in the observatory of his estate looking up to the heavens, or tucked into a corner of his library, scouring the shelves of his extensive collection.He does not intend to court any of the ladies of Garrison county–nor does he intend to court any of the gentlemen. Instead, he spends his time roaming the halls of Champion’s Park with a book in hand, and his face turned to the stars.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 64
Collections: Sheith Remix 2020





	astra inclinant (the pebble remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stardropdream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Count Pebbles With Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16803157) by [stardropdream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream). 



> A very ... very ... _very_ belated remix fic for [robin](https://twitter.com/stardropdream)! 
> 
> thank you a million times for your patience and I hope the wait will have been worth it!

Adam Westfield’s letter arrives late morning on a mid-spring day. It is folded with painstaking precision and carefully sealed, but Mr. Westfield doesn’t deliver it himself. Instead, it arrives in the hands of a carrier who refuses to meet anyone’s eyes as he hands it over, and leaves on horseback as soon as the paper has left his possession. The words on the page are cold and unfeeling, but wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone in Garrison County–the recipient himself least of all.

•

_Mr. Shirogane,_

_It has come to my attention that my affections for you are not returned. It has been nearly a fortnight since I saw you last, and even longer since I have received any kind of correspondence. I would ask that you not trouble yourself with any kind of response to this, nor do I expect any further visits to my estate._

_Sincerely,_

_Adam Westfield_

•

Mr. Takashi Shirogane is a perpetual bachelor; a handsome man of twenty-six years, he is well known throughout the entirety of Garrison county as someone who is dedicated wholly to his study of the stars. In lieu of attending balls or performances at the theatre, Mr. Shirogane is often to be found in the observatory of his estate looking up to the heavens, or tucked into a corner of his library, scouring the shelves of his extensive collection. 

It’s not as though Mr. Shirogane hasn’t done his best to entertain his fair share of suitors. He has danced many a night away with any number of desperate partners, and even called upon a few of them for afternoon tea, but his attempts at courtship always seem to fall short of the expectations of his potential partners. 

And so, Mr. Shirogane keeps to himself. He does not intend to court any of the ladies of Garrison county–nor does he intend to court any of the gentlemen. Instead, he spends his time roaming the halls of Champion’s Park with a book in hand, and his face turned to the stars.

•

Mr. Shirogane has every intention of staying cooped up in his study for the evening. His visitors Lady Allura Alfor and Mr. Matthew Holt join him in the late afternoon for a lively discussion of the latest news from Altea before they each find themselves distracted by other pursuits. Shiro picks up a worn copy of his favorite novel, while Allura writes across from him and Matt shifts his attention to planning the trio’s next Monsters and Mana adventure.

It is only after several hours have passed in near silence, the three of them gathered around a shared table as they work, that Shiro lets the news of Adam’s letter fall from his lips. Even to his own ears, the words sound lackluster and unimpressed. Perhaps he’s seen this coming for a while. 

Something seems to stir in Matt at the admission, and he scoots forward until he’s perched on the edge of his seat when he hears the news. He tosses his book aside, letting it skid across the table’s smooth surface, and asks, “Well what are we waiting for, Shiro? We shouldn’t just lounge about all evening when there’s work to be done!” 

“And what work would that be?” Shiro barely peeks over the top of his book, examining Matt across the table with a wary gaze.

“Lady Allura—earlier this afternoon—did I hear you say there was a ball tonight?” 

Allura’s quill stops mid-sentence, but she doesn’t look up from her letter when she responds. “There is an assembly this evening.” 

Matt grins knowingly. “Is your betrothed, _Lancelot_ , not the host?” 

“I am not betrothed to Mr. McClain, nor is he hosting the event.” Allura huffs, focusing determinedly on the ink pooling on the paper where the quill tip rests, a violent shade of fuschia rising in her cheeks. “He simply asked if I would be attending tonight’s assembly upon my arrival in Garrison County.” 

“I assure you, Lady Allura, that Mr. Lance McClain has every intention of marrying you. He has been asking after you all month, and I imagine he’s sent more letters than any one man could cou–” 

“Perhaps that is the case,” Allura says sharply before letting out a slow breath and looking up at Matt. “But the question remains of whether or not I intend to marry him.” 

“You needn’t play coy with us, Allura darling!” 

Allura looks down to her letter again, grumbling, “I’m not _playing_ at anything!” 

But her words are lost to the raucous sound of Matt’s laughter as he scoots his chair back across the marble flooring of the library, and reaches out to haul Shiro up by the back of his collar. 

“We’re going dancing, Shirogane!”

•

Shiro isn’t terribly fond of the gatherings at the local assembly hall on the best of days–he’d rather spend an evening looking to the stars, taking note of their movement across the sky and basking in their dim glow. Now, after reaching the dismal end of yet another courtship, Shiro has come to believe that he shouldn’t be wasting his time attending these sort of events in the first place. This is the last place he wants to be right now. 

The crowded room around him begs to differ, however, as Shiro is greeted enthusiastically by nearly every passerby, clamoring over one another to gain his attention. The ladies curtsy at him and giggle behind daintily gloved hands, while gentlemen and common folk alike bow when he greets them with a small nod. One particularly brave girl, looking at best all of sixteen, asks Shiro to join her for a dance, and nearly bursts into tears when he politely refuses the offer. 

“You needn’t be so cruel!” Matt shoves an elbow into Shiro’s ribs as the dejected girl turns away, shoulders slumped. 

“It was not proper for her to ask it of me without a chaperone present to introduce her, and it would have been all the more improper for me to accept.” 

Matt huffs, “She only wanted to dance.”

“And I did not wish to dance.” Shiro shrugs, turning to Matt with a furrowed brow before adding quietly, “Not with her.” 

Matt purses his lips. “Are there any other girls that could catch your fancy?”

Shiro pauses for a moment, looking over at him before chuckling, “I am not in the habit of entertaining young ladies, Mr. Holt.”

“It is my understanding, Mr. Shirogane, that you’re not in the habit of entertaining _any_ ladies.” Matt looks at him knowingly, and pats Shiro’s shoulder as though consoling him. When Shiro’s half-hearted huff falls short of the expected response, Matt slips into the crowd, leaving Shiro to stand alone at the edge of the dance hall. Perhaps Shiro ought to call for his carriage to take him away from here– he could be home within the hour if he moves quickly enough. He fixes his eyes on the dancefloor, letting his gaze weave through the dancers, contemplating how best to plan his escape. 

“Lance, you absolute lobcock! Inconsiderate, cheating piece of sh– _oof!_ ” Another man, muttering insults over his shoulder crashes into Shiro sidelong, nearly bowling him over with the impact. Shiro scrambles to keep himself upright and grabs a hold of the other man’s shoulder before he trips over Shiro’s feet in a valiant attempt to keep the both of them from tumbling to the floor. 

“Are you quite alright?” Shiro sputters, “You really should be more careful.” 

The other man shrugs Shiro’s hand from his shoulder before spinning on his heel to look up at Shiro through narrowed eyes. With his chin tilted defiantly, and dark hair curling around the collar of his tailcoat, Shiro recognizes him immediately as Keith Kogane. 

Shiro knows very little about Keith Kogane, but if questioned, he would be able to confirm two things for anyone who asked–the first being that Mr. Kogane’s relocation to Garrison county was sudden. He moved into long-uninhabited Marmora Hall with his mother several months back and shocked the whole of Garrison County with the news that his cousin, Mr. Lotor Whitmoore had been unceremoniously disinherited. The second being that Mr. Keith Kogane rides a chestnut mare through the countryside with the kind of reckless abandon that makes Shiro’s fingers itch with unrestrained envy.

“Mr. Shirogane,” the other man’s eyes widen minutely in what Shiro thinks may be surprise before he dips his head respectfully, and Shiro is knocked breathless by the knowledge that Keith Kogane apparently knows his name. 

Now that he has set eyes upon Mr. Kogane, Shiro can confidently speak to a third fact about him: He is devastatingly handsome.

“I–erm ... hello?” Shiro stumbles over his words, unsure how to respond to the man looking up at him through dark lashes. There’s something intoxicating about the way that his fingers spread wide across the breadth of Shiro’s chest when he leans close to steady himself. 

Mr. Keith Kogane’s hands are beautiful—a fourth thing which Shiro can now confirm about the stranger. With a broad palm and long, slender fingers covered in the type of calluses that seem improper for a man of his standing, he uses Shiro for leverage. His palm pressed firmly against Shiro’s chest is an unfamiliar but steady pressure, and the heat radiating from Keith Kogane’s hand seeps through the fabric of Shiro’s shirt and tailcoat.

That warmth, paired with the hazy, faraway look in his eyes and the wine that Shiro can smell on his breath confirms that Mr. Kogane is drunk. 

“Why aren’t you dancing, Mr. Shirogane?” Mr. Kogane grins brightly, leaning impossibly close. “It must be _quite_ dull standing here all alone.” 

Shiro is stunned by Mr. Kogane’s confidence, but still manages a faint, “How do you know my name?” 

“Takashi Shirogane.” Mr. Keith Kogane laughs, and Shiro wouldn’t think twice before calling it a giggle if he didn’t think it would offend the other man’s sensibilities. “Heir to Champion’s Hall, and the Shirogane estate. Doesn’t the entirety of Garrison county know who you are?” 

Before Shiro can stutter out a response, Mr. Kogane continues boldly, “I am Keith Kogane.” He steps back, offering Shiro a bow with a little flourish of his hand. “It would serve you well to remember that.” 

Shiro blinks once before the first words that come to mind tumble out of his mouth, “I am aware.” 

“Oh?” Keith cocks an eyebrow at him, a sly grin slipping across his face. 

“Oh–um.” Heat rises high in Shiro’s cheeks. “You are quite well known yourself, Mr. Kogane. Your arrival at Marmora Hall this past winter was quite the excitement about town. It was the only subject of any conversation that anyone would speak of for weeks.” 

Mr. Kogane’s eyes glimmer with a mirth that draws Shiro in close. “And was it yours?” 

“I beg your pardon, sir?” 

“Was it a subject which you spoke of yourself, Mr. Shirogane?”

Shiro ducks his head, hoping to hide the scarlet flush that has undoubtedly washed over his face if the warmth in his cheeks is anything to go by. “I am sure I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Kogane.” 

“I am sure you wouldn’t.” He waves a hand dismissively in Shiro’s direction, though the knowing smirk has not left his face. “I would ask, however, that you call me, ‘Keith.’ Mr. Kogane feels awfully formal and I must admit I’ve not yet grown accustomed to the title.”

“If that is the case, Keith,” Shiro nods, “then I insist that you call me ‘Shiro.” 

Keith grins up at him, and for a moment Shiro forgets how to breathe. It’s a wide, toothy smile that draws a dimple out at the corner of Keith’s lips. Shiro wants to press his thumb into the divot in Keith’s cheek, and to feel the stretch of Keith’s happiness beneath his fingertips, but he knows better than to do so. Shiro curls his fingers into a fist at his side instead, willing himself to behave. 

“Would you care to dance, Shiro?” Keith extends his open palm to Shiro. 

Shiro does his best to keep his expression neutral at the question. His usual aversion to dancing feels silly in the face of Keith’s request, and Shiro can’t seem to put his finger on why he’s undergone a sudden change of heart when he accepts Keith’s hand without hesitation. “I’m afraid I’m a bit of a clod.” 

Keith snorts out an ugly laugh, and Shiro blinks in surprise at the sound. It catches him off guard, but is charming in a way that makes Shiro let out a little giggle of his own. “I doubt such a thing could be true,” Keith says. “A man of your status must surely be a skilled dancer.” 

“‘Skilled’ may be a bit generous,” Shiro concedes, “though I do believe my minuet was once referenced as being ‘hardly adequate’ by one of the ladies of Lord Alfor’s court.” 

“You are in luck then, Mr. Shirogane, that yours is considered at all adequate,” Keith tugs Shiro a few steps closer to the dancefloor, “as I, myself, had never learned the minuet until some months ago when I came to Marmora Hall.” 

“That cannot be true, Mr. Kogane!” 

“It is.” Keith shakes his head, mock distress twisting his voice as he casts a forlorn glance to the dancefloor over Shiro’s shoulder before catching his eyes again. “However poor your own minuet skills may be, you will still outshine me in this regard.” 

“Do you intend to make a fool of me, Keith?” Shiro drops his voice low, and Keith leans in close to hear him, allowing Shiro to pull him away from the dancefloor. “Or are you simply hoping that no one will notice if we’re both terrible dancers?”

“Are you averse to dancing in polite company, Shiro?” 

“No,” Shiro shakes his head, “I am averse to dancing in the company of _anyone_.”

“Is that why you don’t attend any of the balls?” Keith looks to him knowingly. There’s a lilt of laughter in the words when he says, “Everyone in town says you’re a recluse.” 

Shiro is nearly knocked speechless by the other man’s brazenness. He blinks once, twice, three times before exclaiming, “I’m sure they wouldn’t say such a thing!” 

“Oh, but they do,” Keith nods, “I’ve heard them speak of your absence at every assembly.” 

“I am not fond of these gatherings, and so I rarely attend.” Shiro sighs, realizing that his hand is still wrapped up in Keith’s, their fingers tangled together in a way that feels too comfortable to Shiro already. “I feel that my time would be better spent in other pursuits, and I am only here tonight because a dear friend insisted I attend. He believes it will restore my spirits after my intended broke off our courtship.” 

“What jackass would jilt _you_?” 

“A number of so-called ‘jackasses’ have chosen to forsake my affections.” Shiro gives him a soft smile. “It isn’t so uncommon as you may think. It turns out that courtship isn't my strong suit.” 

Keith’s mouth falls open for a moment, but before he can speak, Mr. Lance McClain swoops in to grab him by the back of the coat. He tugs Keith away from Shiro, not even bothering to cast a glance towards Shiro as he pulls Keith away from him. He’s cursing under his breath, but Shiro can just make out a faint, “Keith, you _loaf_ , we’re leaving!”

As the crowd closes around his retreating form, Keith shrugs and calls out, “You should court me, Mr. Shirogane!” 

•

Shiro passes the rest of the assembly tucked into a seat in the corner of the dancehall, casting baleful looks towards anyone who approaches him, and mulling over Mr. Keith Kogane’s proposal. 

_You should court me Mr. Shirogane!_

However, by the time the sun rises on the next day, Shiro has managed to push the words to the back of his mind, focusing his energy instead on the perfect ratio of honeysuckle blossoms to tea. 

“Shiro.” Allura looks up from the book she’s reading to watch Shiro pick each blossom up, and one by one place them in his tea cup, a wry smile on her face. “Would you care for some cream?” 

Shiro shakes his head, but his mouth curls up in a simple smile when he responds, “I’m afraid it would ruin the honeysuckle.” 

Allura lets out a delicate laugh at the same time that a servant steps into the room. “Apologies for the interruption Mr. Shirogane,” the attendant turns to Allura, “Lady Allura, Mr. Lance McClain is calling upon you. Shall I direct him to the drawing room?” 

“Mr. McClain!” Allura’s voice cracks on the gentleman’s name. “My goodness…”

Shiro holds back a chuckle and turns his gaze to the servant again. “Please do direct him to the drawing room. I will see that Lady Allura and I greet him accordingly in a moment’s time.” 

The servant nods once before disappearing around the doorframe once again in a swish of full skirts. 

“Allura, my darling.” Shiro looks to her knowingly over his cup of tea. “It seems this young man certainly is determined to marry you. Perhaps Matt was correct in his assumption.” 

“Hush!” Allura casts a baleful eye in his direction, “I’ve hardly danced with him more than twice! If he wishes to marry me after that then he’s more of a fool than I’d have thought him to be.” 

“As true as that may be, Lady Alfor, it wouldn’t be polite for us to keep a fool who is in love with you waiting.” 

Allura huffs indignantly, but a small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, and when Shiro stands beside her seat to help her to her feet, she hooks her arm through his own. 

“If you really would rather not see Mr. McClain, I can tell him you returned home to Altea before dawn broke this morning,” Shiro murmurs conspiratorially to Allura, nimbly dodging the elbow she throws towards his ribs. “Just say the word and I’ll happily do so.” 

“Shiro!” Allura coughs around a poorly disguised laugh. “I would never expect you to be so _rude_ to a guest!” 

“I’m simply doing my duty as your chaperone,” Shiro says as they round the final corner before the drawing room, gathering his composure before the two of them join their guests. “I am here to protect your interests and your honor.”

The drawing room of Champion’s Park is grand by any standard. Painted a mossy green with gold-gilt accents, Shiro has paid far more attention than he’d care to admit to his selection of the deep mahogany furniture and plush velvet curtains that give the room its warmth. It is for this reason that he nearly trips over his finest Turkish rug when he finds not only Mr. Lance McClain standing stiff-backed before the open window, but none other than Keith Kogane sprawled out across his settee, paying no mind to the mud on his boots or the smear of dirt that he has left across Shiro’s upholstery. 

_You should court me Mr. Shirogane!_

“Oh–”

“Mr. Shirogane!” Lance shocks at the interruption to his thoughts and turns on his heel to face the newcomers to the room, eyes flickering back and forth between Allura and Shiro before settling his gaze quickly on the latter and offering a quick bow. He then directs his attention to Allura, a soft shade of pink overtaking his entire face. “Lady Allura.” 

“Mr. McClain,” Shiro says, responding with a weak smile. “To what pleasure do we owe your visit today?” 

“Lady Allura, I was hoping–with your approval, of course, Mr. Shirogane–that you would join me for a stroll about the gardens.” Lance stands stiffly, wringing his hands in worry, and if Shiro were an unkind man he would undoubtedly laugh at the sight. 

Mr. Lance McClain is the youngest of his five siblings. Left with nothing to inherit and a chip on his shoulder, he has always doted on Lady Allura during her occasional visits to Champion’s Park. Shiro found it amusing at first, when the awkward boy of sixteen would muster the courage to ask the esteemed Duchess of Altea to share a dance with him. Now, several years on, with adulthood between the two of them, it has become apparent to Shiro that his affections have been returned to some degree by Lady Allura.

“I would be delighted, Mr. McClain,” Allura says, and turns her attention to where Keith has moved to stand beside Lance. “May I ask who your guest is?” 

“Oh!” The flush across Lance’s cheeks grows impossibly deeper. “Of course! Allow me to introduce Mr. Keith Kogane of Marmora Hall. It is my understanding that with his recent relocation to Garrison County, that he has not yet been introduced properly to many of our residents.” 

Allura offers Keith a smile. “It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance Mr. Kogane.” 

“The pleasure is mine, Lady Allura.” The words are stiff on Keith’s tongue and he seems distinctly uncomfortable to be standing in the drawing room with them, casting his gaze anywhere but towards Shiro. 

“And Mr. Takashi Shirogane is our host,” Lance says, nudging Keith with his elbow. 

Keith allows his eyes to flick over to Shiro for just a moment, and he dips his head briefly in acknowledgement, “Mr. Shirogane.”

Shiro’s brows knit together. “I must admit I am glad to have finally met the owner of Marmora Hall, Mr. Kogane. The estate has stood empty for so long that I was beginning to wonder if it wasn’t haunted.” 

Keith’s tone is cold when he responds, “I can assure you that it isn’t.”

“I see.” Shiro bites the tip of his tongue, letting his confusion settle for a moment before asking, “Would you care to see the library, Mr. Kogane? I have been told that Marmora Hall’s library is quite grand, so while my own collection may not be quite as extensive as your own, I am rather proud of the volumes I have amassed.” 

Shiro is almost sure he imagines the way that Keith’s shoulders relax at the invitation, a little bit of the tension that sits high in his spine melting. When Keith looks to Shiro his expression is neutral, mouth pulled into a thin line and brows furrowed as he appraises Shiro through deep, dusty blue eyes. 

_You should court me, Mr. Shirogane!_ Keith’s words from the evening before echo in Shiro’s mind, and Shiro is sure for a moment that Keith will reject his invitation.

And though his tone suggests it is anything but, “It would be a treat,” are the words that leave Keith’s mouth. 

•

Keith speaks first when the pair of them make their way from the drawing room, winding through the halls of Champion’s Park slowly, side by side. “I would like to apologize that you’ve been relegated to an afternoon in my company.” 

Shiro freezes in his tracks, mouth falling open in surprise. “I beg your pardon?” 

When Keith stops and turns back towards him, his expression is stormy. “I understand that you are only showing such kindness because it is expected of you, Mr. Shirogane, and I can assure you that I’d not have inconvenienced you at your home if Mr. McClain had not urged me to accompany him today.” 

“Your being here isn’t an inconvenience in the slightest,” Shiro says before he can stop himself, and he wants to kick himself for not showing more restraint. 

“Oh...” Keith shows his surprise for only a moment before the careful mask of indifference falls across his face again. “Nevertheless, I assure you I’d not have imposed upon you were Lance not helpless on his own.”

Feet carrying him forward until he’s caught up to Keith, Shiro shakes his head and says, “Mr. McClain aside, your presence here today is hardly an imposition–I am glad to have the opportunity to know you, Mr. Kogane. After all, Garrison county isn’t nearly so big as some would have you believe, and I’m glad to have found a friend in your company.” 

“I have no doubt you have many friends already.” Keith scoffs, but something ticks at the corner of his mouth, a ghost of the delighted grin that he had worn the night before.

“Even if that were the case, is there harm in having one more?” 

Keith turns to look at Shiro, and there’s no mistaking the small smile on his face. It’s reminiscent of the broad, drunken one from the ball yesterday evening. “You are insistent, aren’t you?” 

•

“Your collection is impressive, Mr. Shirogane. You’re a fan of astronomy, I take it?” Keith walks along a shelf of well-read tomes on the heavens, fingers trailing across the leather and fabric-clad spines. 

“I have dedicated my life to the stars.” Shiro nods, settling himself at a wide table and sighing. “I sometimes fear that I know them better than I know myself.” 

“I see.” Keith’s expression softens minutely at the admission from Shiro, and he cranes his head to look at where Shiro is seated. “Your copy of _De Revolutionibus_ seems rather worn.” 

“I have read it through more times than I care to admit,” Shiro laughs nervously when Keith’s eyes meet his own. “And it is quite an old copy, as well–one of the earliest translations into English, I believe.” 

Keith’s eyes spark with something that Shiro doesn’t recognize, but which lights a flicker of warmth within his chest. “Am I to assume you have read Rheticus’ _Narratio Prima_ as well?” 

“I have, though I find Rheticus’ summation pales when compared to Copernicus’s full work.” Shiro says, “Are you a scholar of the stars as well, Mr. Kogane?” 

“To refer to my limited studies as ‘scholarly’ seems generous,” Keith bites his lip to hold back a small smile. “Did you know, Marmora Hall houses an original copy of _Narratio Prima…_ ” 

Shiro blinks in surprise, “You speak Latin, Mr. Kogane?” 

“Poorly, though my written knowledge of the language affords me the ability to read,” Keith dips his head, and Shiro can just make out a dusting of soft pink as it spreads across the points of Keith’s face. It makes Shiro’s stomach flutter. “My mother taught me what she could.” 

“I am sure you are more skilled than you allow yourself to admit.” Shiro leans forward in his seat. “Mr. Kogane... would you allow me to visit Marmora Hall’s library if I should call upon you at your home?” 

Keith tilts his chin up, the blush across his face on full display as he answers. “It would be an honor to host you for an afternoon at Marmora Hall, Mr. Shirogane.” 

“Please, I am ‘Shiro’ to my friends.” Shiro waves his hand towards the empty chair across from him and hardly contains the smile that threatens to break across his face when Keith takes a seat.

“And I am ‘Keith’ to mine.”

•

Shiro thinks of Mr. Keith Kogane when he looks to the heavens long after dark that night. The stars remind him of the light in Keith’s eyes and he can’t help but think about the laughter in Keith’s voice, or the way he worried his lip between his teeth nervously when Shiro asked if he could visit. The morning had melted into afternoon too quickly, with the both of them eagerly discussing their interest in the stars. Keith’s clever words made Shiro laugh until his throat was raw with the unrestrained joy bubbling out of him. When Mr. Lance McClain finally retrieved Keith from the library, the two of them departing just before sunset, Champion’s Park felt so much emptier than it had just a few hours before. 

_You should court me, Mr. Shirogane!_

Shiro is reminded of Keith’s proposition at the most inconvenient times. In an attempt at self-preservation, he pushes Keith’s words to the back of his mind, resolving to not let himself act too rashly.

•

_Mr. Shirogane,_

_Some days ago while Mr. Lance McClain called upon Lady Allura at Champion’s Park, you and I spoke of a possible visitation to the library at Marmora Hall. I should admit that I expected your visit to be more... imminent than it has been, and I have thus spent the past week pacing the entryway, awaiting your arrival. My mother has asked me to move to a different part of the house, for fear of my restless feet wearing through her fine rugs. If it is not too impudent of me to do so, may I ask when you intend to pay a visit to Marmora Hall? I am afraid that my nerves cannot stand the wait, and I’d like the tea to be hot when you arrive._

_Sincerely,_

_Mr. Keith Kogane_

•

Shiro’s fingers tremble when he unfolds Keith’s letter, but he does his best not to dwell on what the nervous flutter in his stomach means when he reads the impatient words scrawled messily across the paper.

_You should court me, Mr. Shirogane!_

He dwells on it anyway. 

•

**_Dear Mr. Kogane,_ **

**_I apologize for any inconvenience I have caused by not calling upon Marmora Hall sooner–had I known it was troubling you so, I’d have been at your doorstep yesterday. I shall visit tomorrow morning, so as not to keep you waiting any longer, and so that your mother needn’t worry any further about her carpets._ **

**_All my best,_ **

**_Shiro_ **

**Author's Note:**

> come say hey any time on [twitter](https://twitter.com/cosmicbeebees)!


End file.
